Rommie's Message
by BookFreak
Summary: Rommie gets a strange message from the Prime Minister of Nazbulia. Rating for implied sexual activities (none of the actual stuff though!) R&R please! New chapter up!
1. Chapter 1

Rommie's Message ****

Disclaimer: I do not own anybody. I do not own anything (except the contents of this document). Every- thing (again, except for this document) and -one belongs to Gene Roddenberry or whoever he's sold them to. In any case, someone other than me. 

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Archiving: Yes, but email me at prouder_reader@softhome.net first. 

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A/N: This occurred to me during a long lecture in Civics. Maybe I'll rework it so it actually has a plot, maybe not. It all depends on your reviews. Yes, YOUR reviews. So don't complain if I don't update; I'll be attaching review quotas to the end and if I don't update YOU are not reviewing enough.

And on with the play: 

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Chapter One - _In which Harper delivers a shocking message_

Scene opens. Rommie should be standing at the right, staring at Harper, who should stand on the left. Rommie's arms should be crossed and her expression annoyed. If possible, Rommie should have normal hair and a nice dress uniform (ie, NOT that horrible blue plastic one).

Rommie - I'm not in the mood, Harper.

Harper - I'm serious! 

Rommie - Harper...

Harper - Would I lie about something as important as this? 

Rommie - [arches eyebrow]

Harper - Well, I would, but I'm not this time. 

Rommie - ...

Harper - Honest!

Rommie - Okay, I'll bite. 

Harper - The Prime Minister sent a message. On an encrypted disk. [big grin]

Rommie - The Prime Minister of what?

Harper - Nazbulia. [bigger grin] You know, the planet we've been negotiating with for the past seven days or so?

Rommie - Don't play games with me, Harper, or I'll play very upsetting games with your Sparky Cola and an _s_-space amplitude resonator.

Harper - Ooh, that hurts, Rom-doll. That really hurts.

Rommie - [silence]

Harper - Okay, I have the disk. Intercepted the messenger in the bay and told the kid I was the comm officer and would be taking all messages.

Rommie - Good for you, Harper. Now give it to Dylan.

Harper - Well, you see, it's not addressed to Dylan. I checked the router information.

Rommie - Aren't encrypted disks supposed to be _secret_? 

Harper - Don't doubt the Harper, Rom-doll. The Harper is good!

Rommie - So you hacked a private message. Congratulations to you. Use your own programs to edit them this time, and leave out the bloody gorynx organs. When can I expect the first broadcast? Next morning on the cafeteria screen? Just make sure you restore the original programming; I had to completely rewrite half the drivers for the last screen you messed around with. 

Harper - Rom-doll, I'd never cut your drivers out and just leave them out there. As for broadcasting it in public, you know I'd never do that. Not when the contents of this message are as juicy as this one is.

Rommie - Why do I sense this is not an official communiqué? 

Harper - Ask, and ye shall receive.

Rommie - Fine. What did the Prime Minister say?

Harper - [huge grin] What you should be asking is, who did the Prime Minister say whatever he said _to_?

Rommie - [starting to realize] Me?

Harper - You guessed it!

Rommie - Why would the Prime Minister of Nazbulia send me a message?

Harper - You know how he kept trying to talk to you at the reception?

Rommie - He was interested in the technology I represented and the way I could manifest myself through an android avatar.

Harper - That's one way to look at it, yeah.

Rommie - I hope you don't mean to imply he's trying to steal me or something equally idiotic.

Harper - No...Nothing like that...Do you recall how he kept on looking at your feet?

Rommie - Harper, that's supposed to be sign of respect. Dylan got it too. I'm not surprised you didn't.

Harper - No, the respect part is when they look at the ground in front of you. He was looking at your _feet_.

Rommie - He did express some interest at the intricacy of the machinery needed to accurately reproduce the human foot; his planet hasn't gotten very far with miniaturized machinery. They're still messing around with some sort of piezoelectric gel. It has promise, but it needs a lot of work, and right now the good old-fashioned chemical expansion/contraction packets work just fine.

Harper - He has a lot more than just scientific curiosity in you, Rom-doll.

Rommie - Are you going to tell me what's in the message or not?

Harper - He says ... [evil smile] he wants to know how far your skin goes and whether your clothing was part of your body.

Rommie - Excuse me?

Harper - Come on, Rom-doll, he's got the hots for you and you know it.

Rommie - [puzzled expression]

Harper - Good God, Rommie, did I completely neglect your education?

Rommie - Education? Oh! Actually, I just deleted that whole folder. And then I put tags into the nearby sectors to make sure I would skip over that area if I searched for anything.

Harper - [Outraged] Rommie! Do you know how much time I put into those files?!

Rommie - Harper, why would the Prime Minister of Nazbulia send me a message that would require anything in that dirty little folder of yours? 

Harper - [Snort] Anyway, he...lusts - is that innocuous enough for you? - for you, Rom-doll.

Rommie - I'm sure a man of his position would never express something so base and crude, Harper. Now just give me the message and go away before I get creative with your shower piping.

Harper - I'm serious, Rom-doll. He more or less inquired whether you could perform lap dances.

Rommie - Harper ...

Harper - What do I have to do, cross my heart and hope to die? He 

Rommie - Harper, I am not touching the wave-shifted free particle clouds of that folder with a ten-light year remote drone.

Harper - But, Rom-doll, that was my crowning glory!

Rommie - Harper!

Harper - Okay, here's the message. You know how the Nazbulians are so paranoid about everything; there are probably a million different forms of verification on this disk.

Rommie - All of which you can fake.

Harper - Well, there's that. But I didn't. Cross my heart and swear not to touch Sparky Cola for a week.

Rommie - Okay, well, let me have a look at it.

Harper - Knew you'd listen to reason, Rom-doll. [hands over disk]

Rommie - If you made this up... [sticks disk into nearby wall slot]

[long pause]

Rommie - I don't believe it...

Harper - [big smirk]

Rommie - If this is some sort of depraved prank ... [threatening tone]

Harper - Hey, Rom-doll, not even the Harper is that sick.

Rommie - I will make your life living hell, Harper.

Harper - So...[winks] How are you gonna reply, Rom-doll?

Rommie - [slap!]

Harper - Hey, no need to get violent!

__

Exit Rommie, stage right.

Harper - [big laugh]

__

Scene closes.

****

A/N: If I can get five reviews, I'll post the next chapter, in which Rommie confronts Dylan about it. Btw, flames count as reviews too, just try to keep the cursing down the make it constructive. Thanks, people.


	2. Chapter 2

Rommie's Message ****

Disclaimer: I do not own any -thing or -one, save the contents of this document. Every -thing and -one (again, excepting only this story) belongs to Gene Roddenberry or who/whichever party he has sold them to. In any case, not mine. 

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Archive: Yes, but email me first at prouder_reader@softhome.net. Unless you have some sort of permission, you can't archive this anyplace where anybody can make money off it (money made off ads on the same page do not count)

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A/N: I use only the characters and setting of Andromeda, so the people don't remember _events_. As far as continuity goes, this is all taking place in an alternate Andromeda universe.

And on with the story...

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Chapter 2 - In which Rommie speaks with Dylan

__

Rommie should be standing at left, Dylan sitting at a desk at right. There should be some sort of disk player on or in the desk, maybe as little a slot on the top with a button or two. Somewhere on the desk should be a time display and a computer terminal of some sort. A door to the right of the stage should be half-open and show a sink and mirror - this is the bathroom. 

Dylan - What's the matter, Rommie?

Rommie - The Prime Minister of Nazbulia just sent me a ... dirty message.

Dylan - Prime Minister of Nazbulia? A dirty message? I don't understand.

Rommie - The Prime Minister of Nazbulia sent an encrypted message - 

Dylan - All of the Nazbulian messages are encrypted.

Rommie - Yes, so Harper decided to crack it, just for fun. He then discovered that it was addressed to me, and passed it on to me.

Dylan - Are you sure Harper's not the one who made it in the first place?

Rommie - No. It's genuine. I checked the power-consumption and comm logs for the relay stations. They're all correct. Harper even got me a gauss field-strength report from some sort of line-maintenance droid that confirms a signal of the message's approximate length and content was transmitted from the Minister's desk at the message's departure time. Then I got into public service records, pulled the aforementioned power and comm logs, and traced an unbroken path from the communications center of the Capital Building to a federal courier office. The message was then burnt onto a comm capsule, sealed, write-protected, and ejected from the machine, presumably into the hands of the messenger that then delivered it. 

Dylan - _Harper_ got you the gauss-field report?

Rommie - He's clear; I've validated that report.

Dylan - Let me see?

Rommie - [hands over disk]

Dylan - Hmm...well, it bears the full Nazbulian crest, as well as relay watermarks from the Capital Building all the way to ... federal courier office 147b . [inserts into desk terminal]

[silence]

Dylan - Is that even possible?

Rommie - It is for Nazbulians. 

[silence]

Dylan - What does _ssalithsz'asmnasl_ mean? It didn't translate.

Rommie - I can't find it in my databanks. It's either new or ... or it's in Harper's folder.

Dylan - [stops recording] What does it mean, then?

Rommie - I said, it's in _Harper's_ folder.

Dylan - Did he put something obscene in that folder?

Rommie - I wouldn't know. I have resolved not to access anything Harper points out with the sort of expression he had on his face when he pointed that folder out. 

Dylan - Okay. [starts the disk again]

[silence]

Dylan - Good God, this is worse than high school Health...

Rommie - Keep watching.

[silence]

Dylan - _Eurgh_! [rushes to Bathroom]

Rommie - Captain! [stops message]

Dylan - [loud vomiting noises]

Rommie - Captain, are you ill?

Dylan - [retch]

[scene cut: 5 minutes later, same set]

Dylan - That was absolutely _disgusting_!

Rommie - Agreed.

Dylan - [rising] 

Rommie - Where are you going?

Dylan - Bridge. I am going to give that pervert a piece of my mind. How _dare_ he harass a member of my crew this way! I am going refuse any diplomatic ties with the Nazbulian Confederacy and exclude it from the Commonwealth until that depraved man is removed and banned from office.

Rommie - That's not necessary. It's okay, Dylan - Captain Hunt.

Dylan - It most certainly is _not_ okay, Rommie. I couldn't even make it through the first [pause, glances at time display] three minutes without heaving! Nobody - _nobody_ - treats any member of my crew this way, not on my watch, Rommie.

Rommie - Dylan, we need the Nazbulians. We might be the _Andromeda Ascendant_, but _they_ are the chief manufacturers of food, munitions, and space hulls in the entire sector. Their Home Fleet alone can take on a good-sized Nietschean pride, and they've got seven other fleets of equal size, as well as the political and economic influence to rule this sector. Not to mention that they've already got a very good semi-democratic international setup here spanning fifteen empires and several sextillion cubic lightyears.

Dylan - Well, it's your message, how do you think we should handle it?

Rommie - I don't know, Dylan. I don't know. But we definitely need the Nazbulians.

Dylan - Well, I'll try to find out just what sort of a man this Prime Minister is.

Rommie - Thank you. I appreciate it. 

__

Rommie exits. Dylan turns around and starts to use the computer terminal.

****

A/N: People, if you're going to read this, have the decency to review it. It doesn't have to be good. You can tell me to go take a long walk off a short cliff. Just review. Please, people. It's not that hard. If you're not reviewing because you don't know _how_, here it is: There is a menu in the bottom left corner of the page (not your screen, that's the START menu). It should be purple and have a GO button next to it. See it? Set it to SUBMIT REVIEW and click GO.

Is the quota is too high? Next chapter is three more reviews, okay?


	3. Chapter 3

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Rommie's Message

Disclaimer: I do not own any -body or -thing. They all belong to Tribune or Gene Roddenberry. In any case, somebody other than me.

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Archive: Yes, but email me first at prouder_reader@softhome.net

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Summary: In chapter one, Harper delivers a very disturbing message. In chapter two, Rommie has a talk with Dylan about it, and has to watch him throw up after about three minutes of the message. But she manages to dissuade him from going to the bridge and verbally lambasting the poor Prime Minister.

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A/N: Note the conspicuous absence of the stage notes. I have, for the sake of Claire's dignity, removed them. You should be able to guess the vague outlines of the stage anyway, just from the context. I have, however, retained a few of them, especially near the end as the story become more action and less talk.

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Chapter Three - _In which Rommie asks Tyr for advice_

Rommie – Tyr, I'd like to talk to you. 

Tyr – [stops eating] Ah…would this concern the message Harper has been babbling about?

Rommie – Harper's been babbling about my message?!

Tyr – Most vociferously. [supercilious, lilting tone]

Rommie – I am going to kill him!

Tyr – No! Well, not until we've found a new mechanic and he's finished modifying my gauss rifle.

Rommie – We're getting sidetracked. What I wanted to ask you, Tyr, was –

Tyr – My advice on this situation?

Rommie – No, but that'll do.

Tyr – At the least, do nothing.

Rommie – Nothing?

Tyr – You must look at the bigger picture. The Nazbulia Trade Federation is vital to the local economy, and the Prime Minister is vital to the NTF. In only thirty years he has completely reformed the old Nazbulia Commerce Administration. It's become far more comprehensive, more powerful, and most importantly, larger. The NCA's jurisdiction was composed of only Nazbulia Prime and its satellite colonies. The new NTF now spans the entire sector, and its actions have powerful effects throughout the nearby sectors as well, including the Holy Order of the Templarum, which has so far been a major blockade in the revival of the Commonwealth in this area. Nobody with a powerful enough navy to oppose the Order is inclined to, and they can do quite well without the Andromeda. The only systems joining are the small and weak, whom the Order can attack easily. But the NTF has its fingers in almost thirty percent of the Order's overall commerce, and almost eighty percent of its military commerce. It can send the Order's economy into a significant depression just by increasing its fees by a fraction of a percent.

Rommie – So…do nothing. Just ignore it?

Tyr – At the least. At the least. Ignoring it will serve only as a temporary delay, though. If the Prime Minister still has the determination and spark that first got him his exalted position – and believe me, he does – he will press on. And sooner or later you'll have to give him a definite answer. In the meantime, you can turn this to your advantage.

Rommie – How? I'm not going to accede to his outrageous demands if he signs such and such treaties and does such and such to such and such numbers! Out of the question.

Tyr – Ah,, how ignorant you are of the finer points of diplomacy, my dear Andromeda!

Rommie – Tyr. This is extortion, not diplomacy.

Tyr – What is diplomacy but extortion, threat, and continuous haggling? One sets a ridiculously high demand, backs it up with an equally ridiculous threat, then lets the other make a ridiculously low offer. Eventually, the threatening, blackmailing, and demanding reaches a more realistic level. Then after much bargaining the two sides settle upon midpoint that gives both parties some of what they each wanted, at a fairly acceptable cost.

Rommie – Fine. How do you suggest I blackmail this man without performing any of those disgusting acts?

Tyr – Sometimes the promise of a boon is almost as good as the boon itself, yes?

Rommie – So I drop a few hints that I might do as he asks, if only he does certain things?

Tyr – No. Good fates, have you never bribed a shady dockmaster?

Rommie – [nose in air] High Guard dockmasters were above such petty persuasion.

Tyr – Well, that just makes it all the harder. Listen up, then.

Rommie – I'm listening.

Tyr – You must present your problem, as his problem. You must portray your roadblocks as his. Should something block you, make it seem as if it is the sole roadblock on a very short road to his desires. Never baldly state what you want, nor what he wants. Instead insinuate that certain events may take place should certain obstacles be no more. 

Rommie – And in applicable terms this would mean…

Tyr – Reply to the Prime Minister. Tell him how busy this treaty has made you. Throughout the message, hint that were you not so busy, you have quite a bit of free time on your hands. Also mention that you would be very, very grateful to whoever gets this treaty off your shoulders.

Rommie – I don't know, Tyr. That seems a bit cruel.

Tyr – [grabs Rommie by shoulders] Understand the nature of this galaxy, Andromeda Ascendant. Nothing is fair. Life is cruel. You'll not be sheltered by your High Guard rules of the engagement, so deal with it. 

Rommie – Tyr! Let go of me!

Tyr – [lets go] So, will you make the call or not?

Rommie – I don't know. Isn't there some other way to do this?

Tyr – Well, we could also just ignore it and _wait until he starts floating outside your portholes reading you poetry by commlink_!

Rommie – You're right. He wouldn't give up. Yet…oh, it's so disgusting!

Tyr – Disgusting? To you, an android avatar who's seen the horrors of battle, and even lived through a Magog invasion of your very corridors? 

Rommie – You have no idea, Tyr.

Tyr – Perhaps you'd better let me see this message.

Rommie – Here.

Tyr – It has the official Nazbulian crests...I didn't think the man would be so bold. Hmm, yes, it's burnt right into the data with interlacing heat-sensitive pigments. No way to fake that.

Rommie – Dylan – Captain Hunt – noticed that too. I've got it on short-term memory … yes, it's in my TAM banks. You needn't insert the disk again; I'll just have to make Harper scrub that slot out too.

Tyr – Is it really so disgusting?

Rommie – Yes, it is! [plays message]

[silence]

Tyr – I see what you mean.

Rommie – Well, at least you're not vomiting all over my bathroom.

Tyr – [amused expression] The youngster vomited all over a bathroom? Why did you let him into the housing blocks? Deck plating cleans more easily.

Rommie – It wasn't Harper. It was –

Tyr – Trance, then.

Rommie – No. Would you just let me finish my –

Tyr – [surprised] Beka vomited?

Rommie – No!

Tyr – It can't be.

Rommie – Yes, the Captain vomited. Now would you give me your advice already?

Tyr – Mmph! [muffles laughter by stuffing a large clump of stewed greens into mouth]

Rommie – Tyr! You'd better not get whatever-that-stewed-green-mess-is on my floor, especially after you spray them out of your nose!

Tyr – [sprays stewed greens out of nose and onto Rommie's front then falls off his chair laughing]

Rommie – Ewww….

__

Harper enters.

Harper – Hey, Rom-doll, nice outfit. 

Rommie – Shut up, Harper.

Harper – Why don't I clean that up for you, Rom-doll? [reaches for Rommie's shirt]

Rommie – [slaps hand away] Am I surrounded by lecherous obscenities?!

Harper – Oww...You know, Rom-doll, you've got a real vicious streak in you.

Rommie – Shut. Up. Eww…

Harper – Hey, Tyr, how'd Rommie get … stewed … zucchini all over her shirt? [notices a bit of zucchini still hanging from Tyr's nose] Oh! Eww!

Rommie – If you're not going to help get this stuff off me, go away, Harper.

Harper – Hey, I'll help.

Rommie – Without sneaking cheap feels.

Harper – Aw… Well, I'll just be re-calibrating one of your auxiliary slipstream motivator-vane actuators if you need me. And if I finish that, I'll be whisk-abrading some of those carbon scores off your hull. That should take me a few hours.

Rommie – Goodbye, Harper. 

Harper – Bye, Rommie. Call me next time you need some help.

Rommie – Not unless you start wearing gloves with me, Harper.

****

A/N: It was too much heavy stuff for one chapter – this is supposed to be a humorous story here -- so I brought Harper in for some comic relief. Next chapter's at four more reviews (ten reviews total for those of us who have trouble with addition as well as keeping track of who's speaking).


	4. Interlude 1

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Rommie's Message

Disclaimer: I do not own any -thing or -one except the contents of this document. Everything, excepting only this story, belongs to Tribune or Gene Roddenberry. In any case, someone that is not me.

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Summary: In chapter one, Harper delivers a very disturbing message. In chapter two, Rommie talks to Dylan about it (and Dylan loses his lunch). In chapter three, Rommie talks to Tyr about the message. Surprisingly enough, Tyr is the most helpful, and advises Rommie to respond and string the Prime Minister along.

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A/N: I thought the last chapter was to serious for a humor story, so here's a short piece of pure nonsense and Harper-humiliation to make up for it. By the way, italic dialogue is computer language. And on with the story...

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Interlude One - _In which Harper hacks the Nazbulian security mainframe and wackiness ensues_

Harper - So basically you want me to hack into the security net of the Capital Building of a strong nominee for Mrs. Most Paranoid Race, isolate one office out of the thousand odd in there, somehow decipher a medical scan program written in a language I can't read. 

Tyr - You will be provided with a translator.

Harper - Translators screw up the moment they encounter third-grader syntax.

Tyr - Continue. 

Harper - I must then slice us a bootleg feed, route it into his private comm terminal, then insert a complex program - which I shall write on the spot - to make it feed to us during Rommie's little chat. I must also do it all without being detected even though there are five separate AI's equal or above Rommie's caliber watching the net. Is that all? No problem. I should be done in a few years.

Tyr - You will have it ready by tomorrow night. At prime eventide first, when the Prime Minister returns from his jog and checks his message-logs.

Harper - One hour after sunset? That's not even twenty-four hours!

Tyr - Nazbulia has a rotation period of approximately thirty-six trigs, each of which has one hundred twenty subs. The binary star causes a long day and very short night. Prime eventide first is precisely twenty-five point ... eighty-three hours away. The majority of Nazbulian society observes a religious Sabbath beginning at first zenith. At full zenith, half the guards at the Capital Building are relieved. The other half stay. At prime zenith, the Sabbath ends. 

Harper - Great. I can slip in while the system is loaded with people praying their heads off and be out before everybody stops praying or whatever.

Tyr - No! During the Sabbath, the AI's are changed over. Each one takes with it a full record of the entire net. When they are changed over again at eventide, the logs are compared. If anything, even a single bit, is found existing but without a documented activity to account for its presence, everything gets switched over to standby servers while the primary is purged with multi-million amp cross-polarized shocks that reset the entire grid to factory standard. 

Harper - So...then it gets changed again at prime eventide six hours later, then logs are compared again. Tyr, you cannot be serious. You want me to hack into the most sophisticated net I've ever seen and get it all ready in an hour?

Tyr - Nazbulian trigs are actually seventy-three minutes.

Harper - Thirteen crotting minutes! Big fat whoop!

Tyr -- At prime eventide first, Harper. You can do it. [turns away]

Harper - Was that ... could it be? god forbid..._encouragement_? [gasps mockingly]

Tyr - [over shoulder] Don't push your luck, Harper.

__

Prime eventide, 2135 hours aboard the Andromeda: Harper finds a chair and plugs in.

Harper - Hack into the tightest security net on the most paranoid planet in existence, he says. Reprogram a medical monitor written in a crotting language unknown in civilized circles. Then slice up the Prime Minister's entire communications terminal and all in an hour. Hey there, beautiful.

Nazbulian operator - Thank you for calling via Nazbulian Planetary Communications. My name is Sasannesz Ghrashslr, and I'll be your operator. How may I help you?

Harper - I'd like to place an encrypted call to the Capital Building, Susie. By the way, you look absolutely stunning in that jumpsuit.

Operator - Extension code?

Harper - Ah, one-three-nine-five-seven-two-two-eight. Has anybody ever told you that blouse matches your eyes?

Operator - Encrypted call to CB58 extension 1395228. We offer twenty-seven levels of encryption. I will transmit a full list including prices immediately.

Harper - That's not necessary, babe. Just give me the highest one. And, ah, scramble the source headers and route them through a few sewage plants, would you?

Operator - [raises eyebrow] Yes sir. Alpha-encryption, with source header scrambling. Would the Municipal Waste Management Center and Salshzsa'aarlszz Sewage Treatment be acceptable? I must warn you, however, Salshzsa does not like scofflaws using his properties to cover their crimes up.

Harper - Who said I'm going to commit a crime, babe? Maybe I'm an undercover agent. [rakish grin]

Operator - You aren't a member race of the NTF. If you were an outside agent, your call would've been routed to some top secret government office.

Harper - That reminds me. [smile] Can I have your phone number, Susie?

Operator - Your call will be sent through momentarily. Meanwhile, please select your desired music from the menu. NPC is proud to offer selections from over seventy thousand composers from all over the galaxy, imported just for you. 

Harper - Oh, you can take the menu away. I already know my choice.

Operator - Oh? 

Harper - [smile] Your beautiful voice, my lady.

Operator - [brittle] Choose a damn piece of music and get out of my face, freak, before I report you for harassment.

Harper - [meek but upset] Number one, my dear lady.

Operator - Thank you for calling Nazbulian Planetary Communications. We are proud to be your domestic carrier. Please hold while your call is processed.

Rommie - [chuckle] Dissed and dismissed, Harper.

Harper - Hey, Rom-doll, she liked me. No question about it.

Rommie - Harper, you are unbelievable.

Harper - Of course I am. I'm the Harper. But, uh, this is private business, Rommie. So I'm gonna have to engage the privacy mode.

Rommie - [smirk] Another Nazbulian woman? You do realize that with Nazbulians, after the male impregnates the female, she passes the fertilized egg back into the male's body for the duration of the pregnancy, right?

Harper - [green] Oh _God,_ Rommie! That's it, I'm going to engage privacy mode before you actually make me hurl.

Rommie - Privacy mode engaged. Note that while privacy mode is in place, basic diagnostic sensors will not function. It is very important to report all fires, smoke, 

Harper - Yeah, yeah.

Operator - Your call has been placed.

Operator - You have reached ...

Harper - Security mainframe.

Operator - Please state your name _$var(name_ID)_ and rank _$var(rank_ID)_.

Harper - _Store $var(name_ID) AND $var(rank_ID); $set(Hack-**)_

Operator - Command accepted.

Harper - _Retrieve $set(Hack-**)_

Operator - [different voices] _$set(Hack-01) _Gre'hggriss Ga'shrashzar, Lieutenant. _$set(Hack-02) _Shfa'nasath Shafsarath, Duly Elected Representative of the People. _$set(Hack-03) _Zathashnar Sziseth, like, programmer or something.

Harper - Stop. Security mainframe.

Operator - Please state your name _$var(name_ID)_ and rank _$var(rank_ID)_.

Harper - _Retrieve $set(Hack-03)._

AI - Cleared. Welcome, Mr. Sziseth.

Harper - Alter transmission format to ... DPL-0134789537 dataport.

AI - Before you enter the mainframe, please take a moment to complete this survey. The results will be factored into the new renovation plans, particularly the graphic user interface.

Harper - What? Access security mainframe.

AI - I said, before you enter the mainframe, please take a moment to complete this survey. It is not optional, Mr. Sziseth.

Harper - Alright, fine. [thought] Damn, how the crot am I going to find out what this Sziseth guy likes?

AI - What is the length of your reproductive organ?

Harper - Mmph!! What?! Computer, command override _/cmd ovr_ access security mainframe!

AI - What is the length of your reproductive organ?

Harper - What's it to you?

AI - Several employees have complained the urinals are too small or too low.

Harper - Is there a decline to state option?

AI - Nazbulians. So sensitive. Okay, recorded. Question two: Describe your ideal mate.

Harper - Hey, what does this have to do with a user interface?

AI - I don't make them up, buddy, I just ask them. Describe your ideal mate.

Harper - [dreamy voice] Rommie's mind ... Rommie's body ... Heck, Rommie!

AI - Nazbulian Records Administration does not recognize any citizen named Rommie. 

Harper - Oh, sh*t. 

AI - Nazbulian Records Administration does not recognize any citizen named Rommie O. Sh*t.

Harper - She's, uh, on the _Andromeda Ascendant_. No! I meant -

AI - Recorded. Okay, question three: What would you most prefer your prospective mate to wear to bed?

Harper - Mmpheurgh! 

AI - Believe me. I'm not enjoying this any more than you are. To think of some of the answers I've received. When asked the length of his member, one man told me I could see for myself!

Harper - Uh...

AI - So...

Harper - _/cmd ovr _Access Security mainframe.

AI - Oh no you don't, Mr. Sziseth. What would you most prefer your prospective mate to wear to bed?

Harper - [sigh] A little black dress with no undergarments.

AI - No jewelry or accessories?

Harper - And black dress uniform boots. Happy?

AI - Recorded. Question four: Do you access pornographic materials at work?

Harper - I don't have any porn to look at.

AI - If you did.

Harper - I suppose.

AI - Would it reduce your productivity?

Harper - Nope.

AI - Thank you, Mr. Sziseth. I realize this has been rather embarrassing, but I'm told the new interface more than makes up for it.

Harper - It'd better.

AI - The new interface had been initialized. Transferring you now, Mr. Sziseth.

Harper - Thank - OH MY GOD!!!! [yanks jack out of dataport]

Tyr - Harper! Did the spyders catch you?

Harper - Yargh! [panting heavily] Good God! Tyr, you have no idea!

Tyr - The spyders caught you?

Harper - Spyders? Oh, the anti-hacker programs? No, no. Great Divine!

Tyr - What happened?!

Harper - Tyr, you wouldn't understand. Can I have some water? Hiya Trance. Didn't I engage privacy mode?

Trance - [gets water] Here you go, Harper. Privacy mode doesn't lock door, it just shut sensors down.

Harper - Oh, uh...well, I have to do something really important, Trance. Tyr. Could I have some privacy? It's about Rommie's message.

Trance - Okay, Harper! We'll lock the door for you too!

Harper - Thanks Trance.

Tyr - Be careful, boy.

Harper -Yeah, you too, Tyr. Don't forget to lock the door!

__

Tyr and Trance exit.

Harper - Whoo, baby! Haha, come to papa! [plugs back in] Ooh, wow...

__

Later. 

Harper - I'm just saying that they had a nice interface, that's all.

Trance - You were going crazy over a computer inteface?

Harper - It's a guy thing.

Trance - If you say so. What was it like?

Harper - Well, see, they asked me a bunch of questions...

Trance - And by these questions they created a perfect user interface for you?

Harper - Based on my personal preferences. Beautiful software. I didn't know the Nazbulians had it in them.

****

A/N: I've got two endings for this one. Tell me which one you like better, please?

Rommie - Harper, what's this I hear with you babbling on about me in a little black dress?

****

OR

Rommie - Harper!

Harper - Yes, Rom-doll?

Rommie - Harper, I'd like to talk to you for a moment.

Harper - Eh, sure, heh-heh. [nervous laugh] Hey, uh, Rom-doll, why are you looking at me like that?

Rommie - You know, I've seen plenty of sick, twisted minds in the past, but you really take the cake.

Harper - What, Rom-doll, did I forget your birthday or something?

Rommie - The absolute nerve!

Harper - Rom-Rommie, what are you talking about?

Rommie - [all in a single breath] I can't believe you! A user interface composed entirely of me not _even_ half-naked! How dare you! 

****

A/N: I know, I know, it's long than all my other chapters combined. But Harper's such a nice fellow to write! Anyhoo, four reviews, please! Four reviews and Rommie chats with the Prime Minister!


	5. Chapter 4

Rommie's Message

Disclaimer: I do not own any -thing or -one except the contents of this document. Everything, excepting only this story, belongs to Tribune or Gene Roddenberry. In any case, someone that is not me.

Summary: In chapter one, Harper delivers a very disturbing message. In chapter two, Rommie talks to Dylan about it (and Dylan loses his lunch). In chapter three, Rommie talks to Tyr about the message. Surprisingly enough, Tyr is the most helpful, and advises Rommie to respond and string the Prime Minister along. Then we had an interlude in which Harper hacks a medical scan from the Nazbulian computers.

A/N: I know, I know. I can't add. But still, here's another chapter anyway. A bit more And on with the story...

Chapter Four – In which Rommie has a chat with the Prime Minister

Rommie – Why are we doing a live conversation again?

Tyr – It gives us a chance to evaluate his response and adjust our approach accordingly. That's the purpose of the links. [holds up modified fighter helmet] With a live conversation, we can warn you off a topic if he responds poorly or tell you to press on if the vitals are positive.

Harper – Besides, I've already hacked us an access to the Nazbulian Capital Building. 

Rommie – I'm sure the hack itself more than made up for your troubles, Harper. The absolute obscenity...

Harper – Come on, Rom-doll, I'm only human.

Dylan - Rommie, are you sure you want to do this? If you don't, I've no problem. We don't need the NTF. The Commonwealth can go along fine without them.

Rommie - No, Captain. It's okay. Harper?

Harper - Yeah, Rom-doll. Remember, men are visual creatures. Know what I mean?

Rommie - I'm not putting on a private little show for you, Harper, and you'd better not try anything funny with that camera.

Harper - Rom-doll, I'm hurt. I really am.

Rommie - Harper, has anybody ever mentioned what a Marie droid's welding pincers can do to human flesh?

Harper - Hey, uh don't you wanna dress a bit more ... fashionably than that?

Tyr - He's right for once. The Prime Minister lusts for you. You should take advantage of his infatuation.

Beka – A little skin doesn't hurt, Rommie.

Trance - You know, you should let Rommie make her own decisions. Do you want to?

Rommie - [pause] Yes. Why not? For the Commonwealth...

Dylan - Please don't let yourself get pressured into this, Rommie.

Harper - [rubs hands and adjusts the camera] hehe...

Rommie exits, then enters again wearing something shorter at the bottom and lower at the top. However, this should be tasteful, i.e., something that would not violate school dress codes. 

Harper - Aww...

Rommie - [stares stiffly ahead for a moment]

Marie droid enters.

Harper - Did I say something? Must be my stomach. You know how it gets when I don't feed it properly.

Beka – Harper

Harper – Right, boss. Anytime you're ready, Rom-doll.

Tyr – Remember: Insinuate. Hint. Do not state directly.

Rommie – I'm ready.

Harper – Y'know that zipper in the front of that tunic? It does work, Rom-doll, and you can pull it down – erp! Rolling!

Rommie – My dear Ayraon, how nice it is to speak to you again.

A/N: PM is Prime Minister, okay? I was too lazy to type it all out and besides, it's way, way too long. Also, if anybody other than the Prime Minister and Rommie speak, they're doing it over the radio. Rommie and the Prime Minister do not stop talking for them. Btw, Rommie, being an android, can speak and radio at the same time.

PM – And to what do I owe the pleasure of another meeting, Ma'am?

Rommie – [smiling blandly] I received your message.

Harper – Look at his heart race. [snicker] He's a very naughty boy, isn't he?

Trance – And those hormones. I do believe Rommie has placed the man into a state of sexual arousal.

Tyr – Good. His lust will blind him.

PM – Oh? I hope it isn't too much trouble.

Rommie – Oh, none at all. One of the perks of being an AI.

Harper – Rom-doll, I think he was talking about the actual offer.

Rommie – [over radio] No...really?

PM – Well, Andromeda --

Rommie – Please. Call me Rommie.

Pm – Of course. Rommie. I trust I find you in good health.

Rommie – Simply wonderful. Uh, although this treaty is taking up almost all of my time, it's not very taxing, really.

PM – Doesn't your captain handle most of the paperwork?

Rommie – Yes, but I usually do a lot of the research. And, of course, he always needs me to find synonyms and local phrases and such when he writes up his speeches and treaties. Utter busywork. It's cluttering up all of my time.

PM – I'm so – so sorry to hear that.

Tyr – This man seems to have an affection for your leg. When you crossed your right over your left, his heartbeat jumped.

Harper – Told you, Rom-doll.

Rommie – I do wish I had more spare time to enjoy myself. [over radio] Gotcha Tyr. How's this?

Harper – I'll just zoom in –

Rommie – [over radio] Don't you dare!

Tyr – Good, good. Trance – His eyeballs are bulging. Fascinating. PM – I'm so sorry to hear that. Perhaps I could do something...

Rommie – Oh, I'd be so grateful.

Trance – Well, she's certainly got his attention.

PM – I'll get right on it, Rommie. Until next time.

Rommie – Goodbye, Ayraon.

Tyr – It could have been better.

Harper – I think you did wonderfully, Rom-doll.

Rommie – Harper!

Harper – What? What did I do?

**A/N:** Yeah, this isn't really a very good conversation. But I'm not used to writing this sort of thing. Just maintaining these 'sexual undertones' is really difficult. Anyway, review please! Three more reviews and Rommie agonizes over her actions to Harper. 


End file.
